


Fate dealt us the wrong hand

by thenightwing



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Good Morgana (Merlin), Lesbian Morgana (Merlin), morgana's gay panic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:27:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23887438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenightwing/pseuds/thenightwing
Summary: In which Morgana never goes evil, and Mithian is never once engaged to Arthur.
Relationships: Mithian/Morgana (Merlin), Unrequited Morgana/Gwen
Comments: 3
Kudos: 46





	Fate dealt us the wrong hand

Morgana doesn’t like men.

It’s a fact known to one and one person only, Morgana herself.

Well, that’s what she likes to think.

Sometimes she lets it slip, giggling nervously and smiling one smile too bright around the maidservants. Usually she’d just overstate her interest in some poor ole’ bloke of a knight, so that no one gets suspicious she doesn’t attract too many attention.

Being one of the only two people who practices magic in Camelot is already enough to make her stand out. Could you imagine if everyone knows she is into women too? The utter scandal it would create.

Morgana’s earliest memory of her otherworldly attraction is with Guinevere.

The blacksmith’s daughter was the first friend she made when she had first arrived in Camelot.

Doe-eyed and scared, Morgana held tightly onto her dear teddy bear as Uther ushered her into the big royal castle. The huge crowd of entourage watching found the little orphan amusing, each of them had a smile laced with pity and welcome.

 _“You’re a princess now, Morgana.”_ Uther had said, a gentle smile on his face as he settled besides her, ready to provide the bedtime stories she was promised. _“All eyes will be on you no matter what you do. It’s in your blood.”_

That was probably the only time Uther had ever hinted at her true heritage to her face. Morgana shakes her head, that same feeling of unwanted and abandoned never truly let go, even after all these years.

She met Gwen on her first morning at Camelot.

 _“It’s very nice to meet you, my lady.”_ Gwen smiled, curtsied on one leg and, for some reason, that made Morgana blush a shade of red she had never ever before.

_“Please, it’s just Morgana.”_

When they’ve grown up significantly, the memory is fondly looked upon and Morgana would always laugh when Gwen points out how shy and timid she was as a little girl.

She would cheekily ask if she wasn’t that now, and laughed even harder at Gwen’s incredulous face, as if asking _“Really? Do you really have to ask that?”_

The true nature of her feelings for Gwen didn’t come to surface until later.

It was at some tournament Uther held with the purpose of shaping Arthur to be the future king of Camelot, and as the king’s ward, it was required of her to attend the banquet and be expected to dazzle the handsome young lads surely to crowd the palace.

Morgana complained to Gwen about it, feeling like a piece of accessory being paraded and displayed like that. Her maidservant only chuckled good-naturedly, before going on and on about the dashing men that would surely impress her.

Gwen would ask, _isn’t it nice having all the attention?_

Camelot’s favorite daughter got the shock of her life when her subconscious retorted with that she only wanted such thing from Gwen and no one else.

Of course, she never told Gwen about that. It was on her alone to suffer and ache as Guinevere later fell for her half-brother.

Now again, Gwen was and still is her best friend. Just because she is married to Arthur and is the queen of Camelot now, doesn’t mean Morgana resents her one bit. She hurts from time to time, but that is never on Guinevere.

Morgana’s best friend opened her eyes to a whole new world. From then on, it was impossible for her not to notice the beauty of the women around her.

It started from the beaming smile of one kitchen girl, to the overwhelmingly attractive body of a fellow princess from another kingdom. Her stomach is filled with butterflies every time the librarian of her favorite bookstore would smile at her. Her palms get sweaty when engulfed in a greeting hug from the palace’s beautiful baker.

So yes, Morgana’s otherworldly attraction to the fairer sex is well established in her own mind. The young ward never stops to think about acting on her feelings, as it was never a choice and there simply were no opportunities to do so. And she never really felt the desire anyway.

That is, before she met Mithian.

Camelot and Nemeth, after seemingly an infinite amount of years, had finally come to an agreement over the dispute of Gedref and from there, a friendship and alliance is formed. By means of fact, there is to be a celebration and a dinner banquet to follow, and Morgana is required to attend.

Because despite having Uther passed away long ago, she is still Camelot’s princess and has to fulfill her duties.

It doesn’t mean she has to be happy about it though.

 _“Honestly I’m quite sick of these parties.”_ The beautiful ward sighs, contemplating over four separate pieces of jewelry spread out on her dresser. _“All I do there is try to look pretty in a corset I can barely breathe in and not embarrass Camelot while trying to survive on what is like a one third of my usual meal. It’s exhausting.”_

Grayson, Morgana’s new maidservant who replaced Guinevere, raises an eyebrow at the overwhelming choices of accessory. From the mirror’s reflection, the young maid is shown to shrug, a pity smile etched on the corner of her lips.

_“I’m sorry, my lady. If I could get you out of there, I would.”_

Another sigh, and Morgana once again feels the temptation of just stripping off her robe and slide into the comfort of her bed for the rest of the night.

Arthur would never leave her alone though, she is sure of that.

_“I hear The Princess is coming too. She is really pretty. Maybe you two can make each other’s company.”_

Normally she would not bat an eye at such information, trying to not seem so eager at the opportunity of chatting up a beautiful princess, but the tone used by Grayson catches her off guard and makes her feel a little uneased.

Morgana turns her head, the same eyebrow crocks up in question. At her mistress’s expression, the young maid gives another shrug, yet that same incomprehensible smile is never gone.

 _“I’m just saying.”_ She says, rushing over to hand Morgana a jewelry of her choice, which surprisingly is compatible with what the young ward has in mind as well, and starts to comb the messy bush that is her raven hair as she speaks. _“You never seem interested in making conversations with the knights. The last banquet I remember you sticking like glue to Queen Annis, so I figured The Princess shall be of equal entertainment for you.”_

Oh, Queen Annis.

At the mention of the gorgeous and wise Matriarch of Caerleon, Morgana’s face blushes a shade of red that is impossible to hide with the paleness of her skin. She curses under her breath, vowing to steadfastly ignore the heat pouring from her ears and neck.

_“We were talking about books.”_

They really were. It’s just Morgana can’t really remember any book mentioned by the Queen as she was too busy fending off unwanted attention from the knights and subtly trying to memorize every single feature of Queen Annis’s face.

Grayson snorts, but hums in reply nonetheless.

Feeling like the young maid knows more than she should, Morgana is about to start digging when the door to her chamber opens, and pokes in the head of Merlin.

 _“Hi!”_ he smiles, and she can’t help but chuckle at her friend’s sheepish expression. _“Sorry, just realized I should have knocked.”_

_“You think, Merlin?”_

Morgana chuckles wholeheartedly at the admonishment from her maid. Despite the lack of knowledge in a number of certain areas, namely jewelry and dresses and anything remotely feminine, Grayson is frighteningly loyal and would definitely not show mercy to anyone that dares to displeases her mistress. In a place like Camelot and a time like the present, it is hard to find someone you can trust wholeheartedly and Morgana is glad to know she has more than one person as such by her side.

 _“It’s alright.”_ The ward smiles, disarming Grayson and beckons the boy further into her chamber. _“Did you need something, Merlin?”_

_“Oh no. I’m just here to tell you the banquet has started, and Arthur is waiting for you to make an entrance. He is quite excited to introduce you to Princess Mithian.”_

Ignoring Grayson’s second snort and the odd gleam in Merlin’s eyes, Morgana nods and waves her friend away. _“We’ll be down there in a second. Tell Arthur to start the banquet without me.”_

Nodding, Merlin turns to leave but pauses, eyes squinting at the reflection of her in the mirror. Morgana opens her mouth to ask, but promptly goes mute as Merlin’s eyes glow yellow and the brooch she cradles in her hand turns to green instead of the blue from before.

Chuckling, good-naturedly this time, Grayson grabs the brooch and proceeds to clip it on beautiful raven hair. _“Sometimes I wonder how in God’s name does everyone in Camelot not know of your magic, Merlin.”_

The sorcerer shrugs, a happy twinkle flashes in his eyes at the freedom of using his gifts. Morgana grins, feeling the same contentment flushing her skin. It hasn’t been long since her and Merlin’s magic was known to the young maid, and instead of rattling them out to the king, Grayson has kept her promise and never even mutters a word to anyone. Not even Gaius, who, at this point, is tired of trying to get her to admit that she knows.

 _“It’s my charm.”_ With a last wink, the sorcerer departs from Morgana’s chamber, leaving the princess and her maid to laugh loudly.

Not long after, Morgana is seen entering the banquet hall with Grayson in tow.

Camelot’s favorite daughter can feel every eyes on her as she strides past the long table, where resides a large number of knights, making a beeline towards the empty seat reserved for her next to Arthur and his queen Guinevere.

Catching her best friend’s eye, she gets a nod of approval for the dress she chose. Despite her feelings for Gwen having turned platonic over the years, Morgana is not prone to bashfulness as she blushes a pale shade of red, prominently shown on her porcelain skin.

_“Ah, Princess Mithian. Please allow me to introduce my sister, the Lady Morgana.”_

After taking her seat, Morgana raises her head, intends to greet and welcome the princess to Camelot when she feels every breath taken away from her.

Grayson was truly downplaying it when she said Princess Mithian was pretty.

She is much more than that. As in, Morgana’s never seen a human being as beautiful as her.

Long, beautiful brown hair cascades down her face. The sharp jawline contrasts heavily with the kind eyes bestowed upon Morgana’s. A smile truly meant to be blinding and is waxed poets about in countless of books and stories. The voice as soothing as of a siren and carry an aura of command worthy of a true Queen.

Morgana can vaguely hear the same familiar snort from her young maid from behind her, and that snaps her out of her muse faster than anything could.

 _“It’s an honor to meet you, Princess Mithian. I’ve heard quite a lot of things about you.”_ She manages to say, miraculously stutters over nothing and inside her mind, she can see Grayson’s nod of approval.

The beautiful neighboring princess grins, her Earthy-brown eyes disappear into a crescent shape of the moon and completely disarms Morgana of all her bravado. A hand reaches out to engulf hers, and the young ward swears she can feel a light fainting spell when she feels soft, soft skin caressing the inside of her skin.

 _“All good things, I hope.”_ Like a true fool, she nods giddily.

For the remaining time of the party, ignoring Arthur’s entire presence next to her, Morgana focuses solely on the sound of Mithian’s voice as she recites tales of her kingdom and adventures. In return, Mithian pays her the utmost attention as Morgana provides her own stories (as well as Arthur’s, but making sure to paint herself as good as possible) while simultaneously entertains Arthur and Gwen as they ask her about Nemeth and their future plans once she is officially crowned as Queen.

As the party nearly comes to an end, Arthur reaches over to ask if Mithian would like a tour around the royal castle, one he and his Queen would be willing to accompany.

Morgana never expects the Princess to turn her rich, beautiful brown eyes towards her. The ward can feel her hands tremble, her grasp on the goblet of wine unsteady, as Mithian shyly asks if Morgana could be the one to lead the tour.

 _“Of course!”_ she squeals, but quickly gaining composition once she hears the snickers coming from her sorcerer friend and her maid from the back (she really needs to sit them down after this), as well as feels the strange looks aimed at her by the King and Queen of Camelot. Morgana stands up, discreetly wipes her sweaty palms on the tail of her dress as she strides over.

She raises her hand in a teasing gesture, smiling happily. _“Shall we, my lady?”_

Mithian nods, beaming a truly giddy grin at her. The moment The Princess grabs her hand and intertwines their fingers together, Morgana knows she is doomed for.

Death by the blinding smile of a beautiful princess doesn’t so bad, actually.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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